


Lukewarm

by unusualJournalist



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Might get horny in later chapters, This one hit me drunk at 2 am, but for now it's just coffee, coffee shop AU, i'm only a little sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23890570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unusualJournalist/pseuds/unusualJournalist
Summary: Rhys is a new-hire at the Hyperion station coffee stand, where interns are sent to be broken in and learn how to defer to their managers.A once-every-great-while visit becomes a regular occurrence as Handsome Jack himself begins to frequent the shop when the spunky new-hire refuses to show him the same begging-for-mercy surrender that everyone else seems to.Shenanigans ensue, naturally.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sup, guys! If you've made it this far, congrats! Nothing pornographic so far, (and bear in mind, anything along those lines will be set in their own chapters, with individual content markings.)  
> If that's really not your thing, have no fear! It won't really have any bearing on... whatever little plot there is.   
> Thanks for giving this weird mess a look, and don't forget to leave a note and a kudos!

Jack was by no mean the most pleasant customer.   
Rhys had known about this since he'd started at the Hyperion coffee shop, arguably one of the worst places on the entire station to be stuck working; there was no shortage of horror stories of awful customers, each one with its individual quirks and unfortunate traits, but none of them worse than Jack himself.   
  
Bullshit, Rhys had thought to himself, polishing down a counter,   
How bad could he really be, honestly? Sure, everyone had their individual quirks, but it was surely just exaggeration by people who didn't really want to work for this job! New hires were often sent here, after all, here or mail-sorting as a way to kind of break them in, get them used to deferring to higher-ups.   
Rhys had enjoyed it, actually, up to now; it was easy work, and a great place to shmooze with his soon-to-be bosses, getting on their good sides now and getting some of that legwork out of the way. All in all, not a terrible gig. Mix a few coffees, learn how to _really_ make an espresso and roast the coffee beans, and the best part was he could roll up his sleeves and show off all his ink.

He was in his element, here; he tossed the whipped cream can behind his back, did a cool little twist and grabbed it right out of the air, upside down, as it was supposed to be, and filled the top of the steaming mug with it, whistling a jaunty tune.   
"Alright, *sir*, there's your extra-massive decaf mocha-chai-tte, extra whip, lowfat, no fillers.   
"Enjoy!"   
"Yeah, yeah. Blow it out your ass." The customer griped as he snatched it off the counter, stalking off with his drink.   
"Yeah, thank you! Have a good one!" The door chimed, announcing another customer, and the barista barely looked up from wiping the counter clean of the chocolate-tea monstrosity.  
"Welcome to Stars-luck, my-name-is-Rhys-may-I-take-your-order?"  
  
"Yeah, I don't care."   
  
He had a commanding presence that seemed to drain all the atmosphere out of the oxygen-locked building, standing there with his arms akimbo, a semi-permanent scowl plastered on his face.   
  
Rhys floundered, a word which here means that he stood there, waving his towel like a white flag of surrender, mouth moving up and down much like the eponymous fish.   
"J,-jack!" He managed to eke out, finally, his coworkers all having mysteriously disappeared to the back to take care of anything that wasn't this.   
"Handsome Jack!"   
"That's my name, don't wear it out. Are you going to take my order sometime today?"   
"Like, you're *the* handsome Jack!"

"What, did someone prettier than me show up? Cause if so I want them caught and shot now. Get on with it, kid, I need caffeination like an intern out the airlock needs oxygen."  
  


"Yeah, of course sir! Um." As he wandered over to the register, thought better of it, and grabbed a cup.   
"You're my hero, you know."   
"Yeah, you and everyone else in the galaxy, kid."   
He rattled off his drink order, Rhys' marker flying over the cup, noting each detail. There was no way he could mess this up.   
"And make it fucking snappy, the only reason _I'm_ here right now is because I threw all my interns out the airlock, and I'm _incredibly_ angry about it!"   
He snapped, stalking off to wait right across from the bar, arms crossed against his chest.

  
Rhys set to work, whipping the drink out faster than he ever had in his short career working there, all the flourishes and little extra touches he could think of going into this drink.   
If he didn't impress Jack with this, he might as well just jump off the moon.   
"Here you are, Handsome Jack, uh, _sir_ ,"   
He smiled, nervously, and slid it across the counter. His shirt sleeve rode up, exposing some tattoos that went all the way down to his wrist.   
  
Jack didn't break eye contact once, staring Rhys down as he flicked the lid off, took a judgmental sip…. And spat it out again, a fine spray across the countertop and floor.   
"Blech! What are you, trying to poison me?! Make it again, _*hotter*,_ and use the full-fat milk this time! What is this, skim?! Euch!"   
"Uh--" Rhys felt the color draining from his cheeks. He was _*sure*_ he'd gotten it right, and yet… Well, of course! He must've messed up somewhere!   
  
He made it again with a quick "yessir", a little slower this time, even more careful attention to detail. Full-fat milk, the fancy stuff, even a fresh bottle for _the_ Handsome Jack, perfectly sanitized utensils, a fresh cup…   
"Uh, here you are--"   
"Where the hell is my whipped cream?!"   
Rhys' brow furrowed. He hadn't asked for it, and this recipe didn't call for it…   
"You, didn't order….."   
A hush like the void of space fell over the café.   
"I what? What did you say?"   
The intern swallowed.   
"This recipe doesn't call for whipped cream," he continued on bravely,   
"And you didn't ask for it."   
Jack looked like he wanted to reduce him to a smouldering pile of ash.   
"Excuse me?"   
"You.…didn't ask--"   
" _Excuse me?_ "   
Rhys wisely shut his mouth, and added the whipped cream, put a fresh lid on.   
"Ahem."   
"Er-- sir?"   
"Nutmeg?"   
This time he was wise enough not to argue, and merely removed the lid, sprinkled some on, and grabbed yet another lid, lamenting the waste of perfectly good plastic.

"About fucking time!"   
Jack grabbed his drink, took but a drink from it, and pitched it into the bin as he stalked out of the café, grumbling about help these days.  
Watching his boss' back, Rhys scowled with determination....   
If it killed him, he was going to get that asshole to appreciate his work. 

  



	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't long before Jack was in again. According to Mandy, one of the baristas that worked the same shift as Rhys most days, this was pretty rare. Apparently he's either hard up for interns, or he has something to prove, according to the more seasoned worker.   
"What, you think this is cause I talked back to him the other day?" He teased, wearing a cocky smirk. "Yes, Rhys. I do think that." Mandy wasn't smiling.   
"Oh."   
"If I have to ask more than once for my caffeine this time, I'm going to shoot everyone in this building, and then myself. Well, one of my doubles. Not me, I'm too handsome."   
He carried a commanding presence with him, bringing a hush over the café as conversations quieted in awe, fear of getting on the boss' bad side.   
"Must be hard up on interns today, then?"   
Jack ignored that.   
"Give me a latte, make sure it's hot. I want this thing to leave third-degree burns all the way down. Oh, but don't steam the milk. I hate milk when it's steamed, it's repulsive."  
 _Is this guy messing with me?_ Rhys scowled, scribbling the order down.   
There's no way to keep the espresso hot without steaming the milk, and they can't just keep room temperature milk lying around.   
"You're absolutely positive?"   
Jack's relatively good mood soured immediately, staring him down.   
"Excuse me?"   
"Rhys.… Don't do it." Mandy's tone was steady,   
"I'm just making sure," he trucked on steadily,   
"That you're sure about what you're ordering."   
_"Excuse me?"_ His eyes were narrowed. "Are you seriously asking me that right now? Are you asking me if I made a mistake?"   
Even Rhys could read that tone.   
"No, _sir._ "

He made the awful coffee with all the quiet dignity he could muster, scowling at his hands as he watched the espresso fill the cup.   
Seriously? No steamed milk, and yet he still wanted a latte, not something reasonable like an Americano, which would add hot water and fill the cup up without heating up any milk.   
"And you're positive you want cold milk. Cold, not steamed."   
"Are you seriously asking me questions right now? I pay your wages, kid. The least, the _least_ you owe me is knowing how to make a drink."   
"Alright-- alright, sorry I asked."   
Jack muttered something that sounded like "Yeah you better be" as Rhys got the espresso machine going, trying to figure out how to make a hot latte without steamed milk.   
Screw it, he ultimately decided, and just poured the milk in directly from the jug, Mr. Hyperion himself watching with a cold gaze.   
"Here you are. One…. Latte without steamed milk."   
"Are you talking back to me? You know who I am, right? I mean, my face is on the cup."   
He held it up to his face, frowning, showing off the little yellow logo that indeed had Jack's smiling face, two raised middle fingers framing it.   
Rhys wasn't amused, but he kept his mouth shut for once, a firm thin line.

It apparently didn't help, regardless.   
Jack exaggeratedly spat out the drink in a fine spray, wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand.   
"That is awful! Who taught you how to make drinks?!"  
"Yeah, well, it's what you asked for,"   
Rhys glared, hands on his hips, but his look faltered very quickly as he realized Jack was staring him down, drink in hand.   
He didn't have a chance to react before it was all over him; the lid bounced off his forehead, his white dress-shirt and yellow apron now stained all across the shoulders, lukewarm coffee dripping off the tip of his nose.   
"What the hell?!" He protested, shaking his hands, droplets flying,   
"What'd you do that for?"   
"Do it better next time."   
Jack crushed the cup in his big mitt and dropped it in the trash on his way out.  
 _Oh, it's on now._ Rhys thought bitterly, toweling himself off,   
_You want bad coffee? I'll show you bad coffee._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that took a lot longer than expected! Thanks again for reading, and hopefully this thing continues to pick up traction!


End file.
